


Omission Tango

by liadan14



Series: Sexual Mores in Erebor (Fills from the Hobbit Kink Meme) [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fíli misreads things, Genderbend, Jealousy, Ori is secretly a girl, and then sex happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liadan14/pseuds/liadan14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori has been hiding her gender for a while now, because this quest is her family's last chance at gaining some respectability and she will not be sent home, or worse, get her brothers sent home, for something as incidental as gender. Kíli is remarkably understanding. But then, it's his brother Ori is more worried about. And by "worried about", she definitely doesn't mean "interested in"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Omission Tango

In Rivendell, Ori is sure her secret is out. That Thorin will come storming up and force not only her, but both her brothers back to Ered Luin, back to grinding poverty and endless court cases with Nori's hackles up to his ears, Dori's disappointed, ramrod posture and no one daring to tell the judge that sometimes the family Ri just need to eat by any means necessary.

This quest was their meal ticket. Their chance at restoring the family name, what was left of it after all their parents had done to destroy it. All that really needed doing was Dori sewing a few more bindings for Ori's chest - she wore them in Ered Luin, too, when she was out late, working or at the tavern and didn't dare walk home in girl's clothes. Not in their part of town.

No one can know. Ori's lucky, her monthlies are light and she buries the bloodstained loincloths in the morning when the others think she's simply making water in the trees. But Rivendell is her downfall. Their library kept her occupied too long, staring at the books, running her fingers over their spines and trying to decipher the Sindarin. By the time she realized she needed to bathe before anyone could try and invite her to join the group baths.

She rushes, stripping down and all-but diving into the baths their hosts had indicated before, because she is not missing this luxury while it's available. She emerges, gasping, and realizes what a monumental mistake she has made, because there stands Kíli, staring at her, watching the water drip off her long hair and curve around her full breasts.

"Oh, Mahal," she says, feeling the world crash around her.

Tears gather in her eyes, panic burns hot in her lungs as Kíli opens his mouth to speak. "Please," she says. "Please, Kíli, don't - " but she doesn't know what she doesn't want Kíli to do. Tell his uncle, surely. Tell anyone. Come any closer. Punish her and her brothers for lying. As prince of the line of Durin, he could. He'd be in his rights to do anything.

"Ori," Kíli says, slowly. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry, here, I'll..." he turns around, sits down with his back to her.

There's a long pause, where Ori shivers, panicking, in the warm water, unable to process.

At last, she says, "what are you doing?"

"Giving you privacy. To wash up and get dressed."

"Oh." Ori lets her fists unclench slowly. She drifts around the pool, washing the stench of travel off her skin, off her hair. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Do with you?" Kíli asks, genuinely bewildered.

"I mean, when I get out. Are you going to send us home? Will Thorin put us in prison?"

"Ori, I won't tell anyone."

Ori stops, abruptly. "What?"

Kíli turns, then, looking directly at her. "I'd never do that to you. I know you have your reasons, and I trust you. You're brave, and you pull your weight, and Thorin might not understand but I do. And I'm sorry to look at you while you're naked, I promise I have no intentions on your honor."

And, well. Ori can hardly help the laugh that bursts out of her at that. "I never thought you did. But thank you. I mean that."

Kíli grins, rakish. At odds with the words that follow: "Well, I'm no catch, so I'm sure you can live with the disappointment."

Frowning, Ori grabs a towel off the side of the pool and pulls herself out of the water. She doesn't exactly care if Kíli sees her naked, other men have before and will again. In fact, she might not even mind if he had designs on her honor, what little of it there is. She's not interested in him as such, but he is quite handsome, and they have been on the road a long time. "What makes you say that?"

"Why d'you think I'm here, now? Any chance not to bathe with the others. It's all _Kíli, where's your beard at_ , _Kíli, no dam will want you with your hair all a mess and your bow and arrow_ and _where's that Durin nose at, boy?_ "

Ori snorts. Leave it to those idiots. "What a load of hogwash."

Kíli raises an eyebrow. To his credit, he's not staring at her breasts too much, or her cunt. 

Still, she begins pulling on her clean clothes, breast binding and loincloth first. "There's many a lass in Ered Luin who'd be hanging off your princehood if you gave her the chance," she says. "If you'll pardon my Khuzdul."

He blushes firey red. It's sweet, really. "Well, that's certainly never happened."

Dressed, Ori sits down beside him. "Really? Never? Trust me, you are something of a catch."

"Only 'cause I'm a prince."

"Nonsense," Ori says. "You're quite handsome, you know. I mean, not my type, to be honest, but you're young and fit and you've got nice eyes and good intentions. That's worth a lot."

Kíli smiles, slowly. "You really think so?"

"I do," she says. "But don't go getting any ideas."

"I promise," he says solemnly, "to restrain myself from ravishing you."

She giggles.

"And I also promise I won't tell anyone. Y'know, about you."

"Thank you," she says. "I don't want to be lying to everyone, you know." And the worst is, she's telling the absolute truth, she wishes she could tell everyone, wishes they knew because she cares for them all quite a lot by now, and she wants them to know who she is. _Especially Fíli_ , she thinks to herself, and can't help wishing it was he who stumbled upon her, just for a half a second.

"I'm going to give you a hug now," Kíli tells her, and she's laughing as he does, and she's glad, despite all, that it's Kíli. He's only a few years younger than her, but so wide-eyed and innocent, all badly timed jokes and an utter lack of intellectual curiosity, and he really does mean so, so well all the time. Had it been his brother, no matter how sweet his smile and how beautiful his body, Ori knows he has more responsibilities, more knowledge of the law and the seriousness of their undertaking, and she can't help but worry he'd have sent her home.

Can't help but worry that the saddest part about that would be that then she'd know that he definitely doesn't want her.

-

They can't help but be friends, after that. They know each other's secrets, after all, and that creates a bond. Though Ori does have to beat Kíli over the head slightly when he tries too hard to protect her, asks her a few too many times if she's alright after a trying day. 

She's forced to pull him out into the woods and hiss, "I can take care of myself. Don't let anyone think I can't."

He holds up his hands, placatingly. "I'm sorry. I just worry."

"Well, don't."

"Hey now, I'm sorry. It's not just that you're...well, you're my friend, I don't want anything happening, and all you've got is that silly slingshot."

Ori sighs. "I know, I know. It's not as if anyone teaches girls to use useful weapons."

So Kíli does, in the evenings, a little away from the others, laughing all the while.

It takes her a while to get the basics, but Kíli is a kind teacher, if not terribly effective (she suspects he's not all that good at paying attention). In return, she tells him stories, legends from her books that he ought to have remembered from Balin's lessons but clearly doesn't. He likes to listen, his head resting on her knee, drifting off by the fire, and Ori thinks if she'd had a brother her own age she'd have wanted him to be like Kíli.

Fíli watches them, from across the camp, something inscrutable in his face. He's no less kind to Ori, no less funny and earnest, no less fearsome with his twin swords strapped across his back, bunched, compact muscle that Ori wouldn't even mind letting protect her.

He watches at Beorn's, when Ori and Kíli eat until they can't move, mocking each other all the while; in Mirkwood, when Kíli falls from the trees wrapped in spiderwebs and Ori screams his name. In Laketown, when she stays behind after Thorin's ultimatum, knowing she prefers the younger Durin's by far.

Most especially, when Tauriel comes breezing in, all red hair and unbelievable grace, and saves Kíli's life, Fíli watches her.

In the aftermath, as Kíli lies unconscious on his bed of walnuts and Tauriel sits beside him, silent and patient and Ori tries very hard not to laugh at this situation, she ducks out to get some fresh air.

And also to giggle out into the lake because who would have thought. Bashful little Kíli with his oddly sincere charm seducing an honest to Mahal elf. 

"Are you alright?" 

Ori starts, turns around. And there is Fíli, standing in the doorway, candlelight glinting in his hair. Ori's heart leaps and she hates herself for an instant. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Fíli settles beside her on the dock, the door falling closed behind him. "It's a little rude of him. To go asking an elf if she could love him, when..."

Puzzled, Ori asks, "when?"

"Well, when he's been leading you on for weeks?"

Ori blinks. Her lips twitch. "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, you know, flirting, teaching you to fight, spending all that time alone in the woods."

And now Ori really is laughing, exhausted from days without sleep and endlessly amused by this development. "Kíli never led me on," she gets out between gasps of laughter.

Fíli is pouting now, his full lips confused and tempting. "I don't see why this is funny," he says.

"No," she agrees, struggling to keep her face straight. "No, you're much too nice for that. Fíli, your brother is my friend, and he is not the prince of Durin I am interested in."

She doesn't know what it is that persuades her to say it, the knowledge that Thorin, Nori and Dori are far away and cannot possibly know or care what she says right now, perhaps the adrenaline, perhaps the knowledge they may all be dead soon.

She doesn't know, but she's glad she does, because in the next instant Fíli's rough hand is cupping the back of her neck, and his mustache is tickling her lip as he kisses her for all he's worth, his other hand coming to settle at her waist as she moans into his mouth.

This, _this_ is what she's been waiting for. What she didn't dare ask for.

Before long, he has her pushed back against the dock as he kisses the life out of her, his hands wandering as far as they dare (not far, bless him, just up and down her waist, settling at-

Oh, bleeding hell, she realizes, as he pulls away, a question written all over his face and his hand toying at the edge of her breast binding.

"Oh." She says. "Oh, seven hells, Fíli, I'm so sorry." And there come the tears again, building up in her nose and forehead dully, and she wishes she weren't about to cry, wishes she could explain herself calmly and rationally but she can't possibly.

Fíli's hand is still solid at her side, and he asks, "What is it, dear heart?"

In that instant, Ori knows she cares far too much and that this is going to hurt her more than she ever thought she was going to let anyone hurt her and she curses herself and her stupidity and that she ever came on this quest to begin with and didn't just convince Dori she'd be fine on her own in Ered Luin.

Slowly, she reaches under her shirt, pulls at the clasps of her breast binding, and gasps against the tears as it falls open and her breasts spring free. "I'm sorry. I'm a girl, we had to hide it because..." she stops herself in a sob and then forces herself to continue. "Because Thorin wouldn't let us and we were out of options in Ered Luin, and Kíli knows, he found out on accident, that's why we were so close, and I'm _so sorry_ Fíli."

Fíli is staring at her as she talks, his eyes glinting in the dark. Ori is crying too much now to see his eyes stray between her breasts peering out the top of her shirt, round and tempting, and he's selfishly thankful. "Ori," he says, slowly, reaching for her hand.

Ori sniffles a few more times, and then finally meets his eyes. 

"Ori, I can't say I didn't wish you'd told me, but..."

"But?" she croaks.

"Honestly, I'm relieved. I never much liked men as much as I like women and I didn't know what to do with how much I wanted you even before I thought Kíli was trying to shag you," he says, all in one breath. "And it may take some getting used to, but you're gorgeous no matter what you wear, and I want to be with you and I won't push you but-"

Ori stops him with her mouth on his, and he surrenders to it gratefully, letting her push him back till she can straddle his lap, thread her fingers in his hair and kiss him till he thinks he'll go insane with wanting her.

-

As events transpire, they don’t get each other alone for another two weeks. Two weeks of dragonfire and battle and Ori physically throwing herself at him in the midst of an orc attack because she sees a sword headed his way when his back is turned and she _will not let_ that happen.

Nori and Dori’s lecture is nothing compared to the talking to Fíli gives her as Oin patches her up from the minor scrape she receives for her troubles.

Kíli, on the other side of the tent and still recuperating himself, makes a series of increasingly hilarious faces behind Fíli’s back. 

Thorin is still unconscious, mercifully, all things considered, though Ori knows it weighs heavily on both Durin boys.

Especially now.

Now that Tauriel silently and gracefully leaves Kíli’s makeshift room in the royal halls of Erebor each morning, neck flushing the same color as her hair when anyone spots her doing it, when Kíli smiles as he tells Ori how wonderful she is and that no, they haven’t done _that_ yet, but, well, the other thing.

Now that Fíli is pulling Ori out of the dining hall by the hand, that damnable smug little smile settled around his mouth.

“I was writing,” she protests, ink stains on her hands proving her point. There are no studies yet, and the library’s not been deemed safe, so she writes where she can, trying to catch all the details of the first days.

“You’re always writing,” Fíli says. “I’ve decided that if I always let you be when you’re writing I’ll never get you alone, and that just won’t do.”

Ori snorts, unladylike. “You haven’t seemed to care all that much about that till now.”

Fíli pauses, turns, walking her back into a wall. “Wounds like yours,” he tells her, serious but _right next to her ear_ , “take at least a week to heal. I didn’t trust myself around you.”

“Oh,” she says, flushing hot both in her cheeks and lower, her stomach fluttering with nerves.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he says. “But I thought I told you. I want you.”

His hand is toying at one of her braids, and they should really get out of this remarkably public space, but –

“I want you,” she acknowledges, because she does ( _Mahal_ she does, she practically aches for him). “But…Fíli I can’t just have sex with you.”

He steps away in concern. “I don’t mean to push,” he says. “Whenever you’re ready. Or, or if that’s not what you want…I thought, because in Laketown, but if you haven’t, before, or if you don’t want to…anything you want, Ori.”

“I mean,” she says, “I mean, I am more than ready to have sex with you. I lie awake at night thinking about how you’ll feel inside me, you great twat, of course I want to. I just mean...” She sighs, then says. “I just mean I have _feelings_ for you and it’s going to mean something to me and if it doesn’t for you I need to know.”

He stares, at first, eyes wide and dark.

Then, Fíli grasps her by the hand again and all but drags her up the flight of stairs and into his room. He shuts the door behind them, lights the torches on the walls, and then turns to her. 

“It occurs to me,” he says, “that I have not been very clear about this.”

“Oh,” Ori says. She sits down, awkwardly perching at the edge of his bed, fiddling with the sleeves of her too-big jumper. She’s still passing as a boy, though Oin knows by now, too – there has just been no good moment to reveal her gender.

“Ori,” Fíli says, kneeling before her. “I _like_ you. I want to bring you tea while you pore over your books. I want to tell you about what I’ve been doing all day when I don’t see you. I want to wake up next to you. When I thought Kíli and you…I’ve never been that jealous in my entire life. And yes, I want the other things too. I want to make you come so hard you never consider another man, to be honest, but if that were all I wanted we would never be here.”

“Well, then,” she says. Slowly.

“Well,” he repeats.

In the next instant they’re kissing, passionately, lewdly, messily. She’s kicking off her shoes and laying back on the bed, pulling him over her by his braids and relishing the feel of his body against hers.

By the time they pause to gasp for breath, she has his shirt halfway undone and he’s tugging at her breast bindings.

“Please,” he says. “Your breasts…I’ve been thinking about them for _days_.”

She shrugs off her shirt, then the bindings, and his mouth is on her in an instant again, trailing down between them and then to one nipple, his fingers toying at the other. She arches up in the satisfaction, both of breathing freely and of him, touching her.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

She drags him up for another kiss, says, “Naked. Now. Please.”

They each struggle with their own clothes, kicking them aside hastily – there’ll be time enough later, for her to dig out her nice underthings, and the one dress she packed, the one that frames her figure the best, because she may be tomboyish and a bookworm, but she’s a woman and she knows when she looks good and she wants to watch Fíli struggle to keep his eyes off her chest in public.

Fíli wastes no time, kneeling between her legs, saying, “Can I?”

And she says “Yes,” of course she does, thinking he’s about to line himself up, but he doesn’t, he shifts further down till he’s looking right at her cunt and she blushes bright red, because there have been men before, but none have done this.

He takes his time, belying the urgency from moments ago, licking around her entrance and suckling at her pearl, slowly, gently, and Ori gradually lets herself relax into it. His fingers slide into her, first one and then two, crooking and massaging gently.

She doesn’t mean to moan, she’s quiet – little mouse girl, her previous lover called her – but Fíli looks up when she does, smirks and sets to work twice as hard. He flicks his tongue at her pearl, suckles at the skin around it, licks in wide swathes, and finally settles on a rhythm, up and down it.

And Ori quakes. Her legs quiver involuntarily on either side of his head, her stomach trembles with each new technique he tries, and then her muscles draw inward when he really goes for it, building and building towards the final moment.

His fingers are making embarrassing noises inside of her, squelching against her walls, and each lick feels like a static shot through her pelvis. Her hips are bucking involuntarily, her breasts heaving – she rolls her own nipple between her fingers and he moans against her at the sight, and that vibration is what does it.

She yells, just one brief breathless “Ah!”, when she comes, trembling against his tongue.

No lover has made that happen before. Only her own fingers. She knows she’s staring at him with something approaching reverence, and that really will not help how damnably smug he can be, but it’s Fíli.

She knows Fíli. Knows what he can be like, about his duties and his role and his princedom and how proud he is that he can do it all, can be everything for everyone, can make her come using just his clever, clever tongue, and she is not having it.

She pushes him to his back, laying him out beneath her, kisses him dizzy and sits astride him. “Ready?”

“For you?” He asks, grinning. “Always.”

She sinks down on his cock all at once, wincing internally but relishing the feel. This is what she’s been waiting for. Steadying herself on his chest, running her fingers through his golden chest hair, she begins to raise herself up and drop back down, slowly. It uses a whole set of muscles she didn’t know about and she feels herself losing focus, ability, fast, but she wants to make it work.

Fíli, beneath her, has his eyes closed and his head tipped back.

“Ori,” he sighs, “lass…”

He trails off as she manages one good bounce, fingers straying to play with herself and losing her momentum immediately after. This is what she likes best about sex, her brain turning off slowly when it’s good, when she can be this close to someone.

One of his hands settles at the small of her back and before she can realize what he’s doing, he flips them, has her on her back. “Please,” he says. “I…I need…”

“Whatever you need,” she says. “I want it.”

He groans, and thrusts, hard. She sighs at the ache, deep and pleasurable right down to her bones. He tilts his hips up and _oh_ that feels good, like she might almost come again but not quite.

Her fingers stray back down to where they’re joined, toying with her pearl, making her clench hard around him.

“I’m gonna,” he warns, and, gloriously, he does, hard and sharp inside her, pushing and thrusting twice as hard for a half a minute. Her fingers move furiously on herself and she comes again just as he begins to soften, arching up and clenching him inside of her. He gasps, his cock twitching in response, and they fall to the bed side by side.

He reaches for her, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair, his hands resting on her breasts. She giggles, too tired to wonder if she needs to make rules about that, and nestles close to him in sleep.

-

Two months later, when Thorin is well enough to hold a decent party, Ori wears a dress in front of the company for the first time. Most of them have caught on by now anyway, but it’s worth it.

Fíli barely finishes a sentence all night, he’s so distracted.

That night, he makes her scream.

Kíli claims he’ll never forgive her for the mental scarring. Given that it’s said with his hand on his own lady-love’s thigh, Ori doesn’t believe a word he says. She’s just glad her own brothers live very far away from Fíli’s rooms and have only threatened his life once.


End file.
